OPERATION MOTHERLOAD

The country we live in here in the United States of America is said to be one of the safest places to live in the world, our police protect the public and the justice system here is said to work better than any other on Earth. We can call 911 and get a fast response from our law enforcement personnel here who usually follow procedure and adhere to policy and law for the main part when making arrests. I always thought I was lucky to live in America, and that we lived in a close to perfect civilization protected by a government that cares about the people and cares about me too. I found in my times that this is all just a veneer to cover up a very dark and disappointing reality of the criminal justice system. I feel like now I have been given a coke and a smile, to keep me from seeing the ugly truth of what the United States of America doesn’t want me to think, know, or ever see. I have also become complacent with the foolish notions of America being number one. I have a story to tell you about how this countries justice system failed me and how I exposed an underground organized crime ring of professional kidnappers and child porn snuff film makers protected by the police, FBI and even by our own justice system. This account of mine is all true and can be verified for it’s facts by an investigation, an investigation I have been trying to have carried out since 2009. I have written every FBI field office in every state of the USA, I have written the CIA, Pentagon, Department of Justice, the White House, the Supreme Court, Attorney General’s Office, Atlanta Police Department, NBC, CNN, ABC, and BBC many times now concerning a child porn kidnapping ring that is protected by police in Atlanta, GA. I have never received a single response from a single agency in the time frame of over 4 years now, when I have been writing very serious complaints with accurate information, in fact I was almost murdered 2 times now by very suspiciously similar types of people, thugs that carry out hits for police. I want to tell you my story now so you can be the judge of whether these complaints should be overlooked or if there is indeed a conspiracy in these government agencies to cover up a worldwide government protected organized crime ring. After all, I did make over 200 complaints in 4 years and the least I expected was for somebody to contact me and ask me some questions. The reason I believe nobody wants to ask me questions is because not even one of the agencies I wrote wants the answers to be public. I am wanted a dead man still to this day instead of being a protected witness.  Why would these agencies investigate their own guilt that they are already knowledgeable of? They wouldn’t, it would incriminate their own people. The USA is not what you think it is, I know from what I have seen and struggled through.  I’ll break it down from the start.

I grew up in a neighborhood in Atlanta, GA called Virginia Highlands. It was known to be a “yuppie” hangout with lots of bars and shops, somewhat of a tourist attraction. I would skateboard there with my friends and at the time I thought we ran the neighborhood. I was wrong. I found out later that the mafia ran our small neighborhood, and that cocaine was being smuggled into the storerooms by way of their moving vans and trucks. I was offered a job by three individuals in this mafia, some of these jobs you may find to be very suspicious. I will talk about that later. I was in a skateboard crew called the Virginia Highlands Crew and, in another neighborhood south of ours, there was another crew of teenagers. This other crew started encroaching into the neighborhood, a crip gang of homies who we had had fights with before and one of the members of this crew was one of my worst enemies in the world. For the purpose of this book, I will call him DJ. The leader of my skateboard crew and me had a falling out and when news spread to the other neighborhoods, the crip gang from down south came into Virginia Highlands and took over the leadership there. DJ was the one who came to fill his shoes. I was struck with a sense of confusion and fear at the same time not knowing what to do about DJ coming to Virginia Highlands and hanging around my friends in my neighborhood. I noticed he was treating me differently than usual and acting polite and friendly, almost patronizing me to get me to accept him. My friends seemed to like DJ and tolerated him around our crew. Next thing I knew they were all in a crip gang and dressing like gangsters and were instructed to wear only blue, white, and black. I had mixed feelings about this type of shift, I slowly watched all my friends fall in love with DJ and accept his leadership. I had kept my reservations about this guy, and I think he knew it. One day, I went to DJ’s house when I was skipping class. DJ wasn’t home but his father was. I asked his father where he was, and he said he left earlier that morning and asked me if I wanted to come inside and talk. I remember him offering me a joint to smoke and we carried on a conversation about Nick and me being friends since we were 10 years old and how things have changed so much now that we are older and that he was glad that me and him were friends again. He asked me about the girls in my life and in the neighborhood and then asked me a very strange question. He wanted to know if I would be interested in having sex on video with a group of men that he knew and that he said, “did not have to worry about the police”. I asked who I would be having sex with, and he said a 14-year-old girl that his “friends” knew in the neighborhood. I said I would think about it, and he said OK. I went about my business and a few days later I was approached by a man in the neighborhood who said he was looking for people to work for him and wanted to talk to me at his house. I went to his house, and he was very polite to me. He offered me some THC pills for free, this was back in 1996 when the pills were relatively new and were being used to treat cancer patients’ poor appetites. He showed me a rolodex of pictures of people he had collected and said they were friends of his from the neighborhood. I saw a rolodex full of pictures of teenage and tween girls and boys some of which I knew from school. He showed me a picture of him and Zell Miller, the former governor of Georgia, with arms around each other and laughing like best friends. He said his name was John and that he was checking up with me if I had made a decision of whether or not I still wanted to have sex with Heidi in front of some men for $100 a video. I said I had talked to DJ’s father and he said he knew and wanted me to call Heidi and gave me her phone number to meet up with her and talk. I said I would call her, and I left his house. Two days later, he asked me to come to his house again when I saw him outside watering his grass. I remember thinking that his grass was not very nice and, in my opinion, not worth watering. It felt like he knew I walked this way to the neighborhood around this certain time and needed an excuse to stand out front and catch me walking. He asked me if I had called Heidi and I said no. He then said he wanted me to come meet this group of men he knew and called a man on the phone. Ten minutes later a large man came in the door with a very large presence about him. He introduced himself and said he was the owner of a local moving company and wanted to see if I wanted a job with him. He said he had a house where there were lots of teenagers like me who stay at his house all day playing video games and using whatever drugs they want to use.  He asked me if I would like to come over and drink some beers with the men.  I thought to myself that this was so unusual and suspicious and that something must be very wrong here. I told them no and the large man got very angry and just left after chiding his friend about wasting his time. I still remember how loud and commanding his voice was. He was obviously the boss of something, even if it was not a moving company. The other man said he would still pay me for the interview and took me into a room to get the money. His room was barren, a dirty old mattress was on the floor with a jar of Vaseline next to it. He reached into the mattress and pulled out a large roll of cash and paid me $25. He paused before handing the me the money, it felt like for a minute but really it was only a few seconds. I got the feeling he wanted me to ask him a question standing in a dark room with the windows boarded shut and a mattress on the floor with a large jar of Vaseline next to it. I just took his money and said thank you. I left thinking I had just discovered a new hidden world and thought that I would stay away from these people and would never see them again, I was wrong. The next day I was walking home at night and stated to notice a black mustang with tinted windows driving next to me going the same speed I was walking. The window rolled down and a very angry and intimidating white man stared into my eyes as if to say “I will fucking kill you” and he left the impression on me that I knew they could anytime and if they knew enough about me, which they apparently did, they could kill me anywhere as well. They must have been following me that day or spoken to DJ’s father to know that I walk home at that time of night down that particular street. I told some of my friends about it the next day and they thought it was strange, but I did not tell them about my experience with John and the owner of the moving company, that would make me feel embarrassingly homosexual in a strange way. In the back of my mind I thought these guys did not want to “watch” me on video have sex with a girl but rather that they wanted to have sex with me. Furthermore, I got the feeling I would never be able to leave Johns house if I had come over to “drink some beers”. I think these kidnappers use this psychology to their advantage. If a boy is known to be straight, then he will keep something gay he has done or thought of doing a very well protected secret. Of course, I would keep a secret that I was targeted to be molested in a gay way by men or else everybody would have made fun of me and called me gay, even though I told the men no, I still could have a stigma to me just having associated with these people in the first place and I didn’t want that to happen to me. Similarly, victims of sexual abuse naturally don’t want to talk about what happens to them, it is a very easy secret for predators to have kept. Nobody wants to be considered weird sexually or different in any negative way, the natural response in somebody is to reflexively deny they have anything wrong with them, especially if it is having to do with any kind of sexual abuse. The next night I was followed again by a very suspicious looking white man in a red car with tinted windows, again driving the same speed I was walking and giving me very nasty looks as if to say “If you tell anybody your dead”. I was followed again the next night by a white van with no windows on it with a very suspicious white man going my speed walking and of course, giving me intimidating looks. I remember thinking, this is a very dangerous group of people that know a little too much about me. I wondered in my mind if they had been speaking with each other about me, they must have been to coordinate all of this activity. I saw the last two men the next day in Virginia Highlands driving delivery trucks for the neighborhood shops. It made me wonder about this “job” with Buckhead Movers, in that I thought these men must find older men to work for them in a similar way, however they wanted me for sex, not to drive flower delivery vans and strange purple and white vans I saw frequently entering and exiting the parking lots of Virginia Highlands. DJ asked me one day to help him break into one of the coffee shops. He told me there was a lot of “keys” of cocaine inside with a lot of cash. He said he knew because his family owned the store and that we would not get into trouble. I told him he would have to do it himself. The next few days were very strange. DJ started acting very aggressive around me and I couldn’t figure out why.  Three days later I was framed by DJ in my friend’s van while we were driving in Little Five Points. I was sitting in the back seat and the next thing I know there is a police car behind us with his lights and sirens on and DJ just comes up to the window and throws a pistol and a bag of weed into my lap. Everybody in the van was charged with possession including me and I was sent to the YDC in Dekalb county. It felt like to me that instead of killing me they decided to take me out legally instead. I was sent to a program for two years in another state, my life in Virginia Highlands was over for sure.  I knew then one way in which police use snitches, to frame people they want off the street or out of the way. The police were obviously targeting me after I had refused the protection of the child porn ringleader and owner of the moving company.  

When I got back into Atlanta nobody wanted much to do with me and DJ had taken over the whole neighborhood as well as everybody I had ever known in my life. Everyone that I grew up with were now friends with DJ, better friends than I ever was with them. DJ made them feel like gangsters and hard asses of which I had known them not to be so much of, but rather hoodlum skateboarders, not psychopath murdering G’s that don’t give a fuck about anything. I felt uneasy around those people because in the back of my mind I did not trust anybody that knew DJ. I was always a good student and was able to graduate high school with a high GPA. I went to college and the 9/11 terror attack occurred. DJ had started having sex with my ex-girlfriend and people said DJ wanted to kill me. I left to join the NAVY in 2002 shortly after that and I dropped out of college. When I did not make the cut for the NAVY SEALS I came back home to Atlanta to figure something else out foolishly thinking all the bad feelings had died down with my old group of friends. I hung around these people for a long time on the peripheral and in the time I was around them I gathered a lot of information I never thought I would know. After 9/11 some homies on the street in Atlanta started asking people who they were down with in the war on terror, white Christian Americans, or Jihadi Muslims? The whole idea was that if you were a homie or a gangster you were supposed to say, “fuck America” and fight America too. One of my old friends from the neighborhood was converted to Islam and tried to convert me too. I noticed they started a rap group that was militant and was promoting Jihad in their music and on the street with some of their apparel. I had a falling out with them and somebody from the street told me DJ wanted to kill me. I wrote the FBI on DJ and the only thing I knew to write about him was that he was connected to an organized crime ring of child molesters and that he was in a Jihad crew. 

I wrote the FBI in 2009 on the pink mansion child molestation crime ring and DJ’s affiliation with Jihad. I had some agents come and talk with me and I gave them all the information I had at the time. They were not interested at all in the Pink Mansion kidnappers, all they wanted to know was about the Jihad gang activity. I never heard back from them. A few days later I drove my car to CVS pharmacy in Virginia Highlands. I parked and got out of my car and started walking to the pharmacy door. I heard my car doors unlock remotely and turned around to look. I took my keys out of my pocket and locked my car back thinking the button had pressed against my leg and unlocked my doors. I turned around and my doors unlocked remotely again. I locked them back and kept my keys in my hand to make sure they did not accidentally unlock again. I heard my car doors unlock again on my way to the door. I looked around the CVS parking lot and noticed what looked like an African American off-duty police officer in a red car with tinted windows. I looked down the other side of the parking lot and noticed what looked like an off duty African American police officer in a black sedan with tinted windows. The man in the black car was wearing sunglasses and so was the man in the red car. They were both looking right at me, staring at me as if to say, “we can frame you anytime we want with anything we can put in your car”. I took down their license plate numbers, and they drove off out of the parking lot one after the other. Later I wrote the FBI about this and after this incident the FBI stopped responding to my complaints, this was in 2009. What was happening was that the Atlanta Police that protect this ring were able to find out I was writing complaints to the FBI and police about African American Jihad gangs and the pink mansion. They attempted to intimidate me into not writing anymore, but I wanted to make sure DJ got busted before he was able to kill me. The next week I was driving my car past Ansley Mall, a small community in midtown Atlanta close to the cities biggest downtown park, a black car with tinted windows sped in front of me and hit his brakes as a red car with tinted windows came up on the left side of me with the passenger’s seat window down. The African American man in the red car pulled up what looked like a MAC-10 submachine gun, which could have been automatic, right as I just steered my car into a small parking lot to the right. I looped around the parking lot to turn around, then I waited to see what the driver of the red car was going to do. The driver of the red car made a very bold illegal U-turn at a red light and people honked their horns at him and he sped up to the driveway I was in, slowed down to see what I was doing and then drove off. I was almost killed right there in front of Ansley Mall. It looked like the same way they killed Biggie Smalls. They tried to box me in, drive up next to me, and shoot me up. I did not contact the police about this incident, after being threatened by them I stopped contacting local police and to this day I do not trust any of them. It looked to me like after I was threatened to be framed and then reported the license plate numbers of the red and black vehicles from CVS to the FBI, a leak in the FBI field office to the Atlanta Police let the dirty officers know I snitched on them and then they tried to kill me. Apparently, the FBI is not as squeaky clean as I thought they were nor as trustworthy and also, I thought at that time that, In Atlanta, they might be just as corrupt as the Atlanta Police Officers who protect the child porn crime rings. 

I have heard many things about the pink mansion on the street. DJ had told me once that he sold drugs to them and that inside the house there was a basement where there were “a lot of teenage boys and girls with soulless eyes being taken into rooms for older men to have sex with” and that he saw the chief of the Atlanta police over at this house, drinking at the mini bar and watching all of the teenage sex. I heard famous sports players frequent the pink mansion and that celebrities pay money to have sex with children there and that police officers go over there to have sex with children too. I have had people tell me that there is an age-old tradition in America. That presidents of the United States and Governors of all the states in America are propositioned similarly to the way I was to have underage sex and that most of them actually have had sex with underage boys and girls in similar houses as the pink mansion. I heard that a very recent ex-president had underage sex with a little boy in Washington DC at an underage sex house protected by the police there as well. I understood at that time why my complaints were being completely and most negligently ignored by everyone I wrote them to.  

In 2019, I started being stalked by DJ again in Athens, GA. I saw him in the mall with a girl I knew from one of my groups of friends. I noticed one day that a red car with tinted windows was taking trash out of my dumpster in my apartment complex not long after I emptied my trash. I was followed shortly afterwards by a red car with legally tinted windows by a driver I recognized that was driving the black car at Ansley Mall. I wrote the FBI again in 2019. I was visited by a local girl and a police officer who said they could use my DNA to frame me if I did not stop writing complaints on DJ and the Pink Mansion. I was smoking a cigarette outside my apartment and a girl walked up to me and asked for a cigarette. I gave her one and she asked me if I knew somebody named DJ. I told her yes and she asked me my name, I told her, then she said I needed to be careful what I “chose to do” because people were talking about setting me up for a crime in Athens. I was pulled over by a police officer and told that I needed to contact DJ and stop writing complaints, that the police can put me away if I did not stop writing the FBI and that they could use my DNA to do it. The police officer was a Caucasian man with a shaved face and was not wearing a name badge. I wrote the FBI again about this intimidation and they did nothing, no response. I wrote the Department of Justice that oversees the FBI, and they gave me no response either. Three days later my roommate was spending the night with his girlfriend at her house. I heard somebody try to get into my apartment with a key. I went to the door and nobody was there. I grabbed my phone and went into the hallway outside my front door in my apartment complex. I walked to the stairwell and saw a young African American man walking down the stairs from my level, he turned up to see me and went for a gun he had in his pocket. I raised up my cellphone and he just kept walking down the stairs and into his car, which was red with legally tinted windows. He drove off and I remember thinking to myself, next time they try to kill me again I will probably not make it out again alive. I wrote the FBI again about what happened knowing I cannot trust the police, and knowing at this point the FBI was not going to do anything. I wrote them anyways in case I was framed with my DNA. I researched some places in the world that would take me in as a refugee from the United States of America and packed my bags and left the country the next day. If the police would not protect me and neither would the FBI or Department of Justice, then I was as good as dead in my country. During my travels I learned so much more about these type of rings from common people in different countries. I found out that is not just America where this is a problem, that it is an international crime ring that operates all over the world moving children and teenagers to different houses in different states and countries. After a year out of the country I came home back to America where I was put into prison for leaving the country on probation. I spent 6 months in prison where I was informed of even more information regarding DJ and the child porn ring. I wrote the FBI from prison, my complaint was 38 pages long and I called it “The Motherload” as for a “motherload” of information. When word stared to spread that I snitch to the FBI in prison I started to request protective custody. I was denied protective custody 5 times and then I got into an altercation with an inmate after being threatened by him. I was beaten 20 times in the head in a room with no cameras by African American police working in the prison and then locked down in a cell where I was not fed any food for three days straight. I thought I was going to die in that cell. One day my cell door opened, and I walked outside of it to see why. I noticed two inmates walking towards me with knives in their hands. I jumped off the top balcony and ran away to the guard, I told him they were trying to kill me, and he pointed his pepper spray gun at me and said, “go to the cafeteria”. He had opened my door for me to be stabbed to death by inmates. I could see his frustrated anger of me still being alive in his eyes. I had written complaints to the FBI from prison and one of the custodians almost stole my mail off the table when I was in quarantine with the Corona virus. I knew then that homies in prison knew I was writing the FBI about Jihad gang activity and wanted me dead. They had gotten the police officer to open my cell so that they could kill me. I was told earlier that I had hits out on me by the police, I didn’t know that the officers in prison would try to carry one out. Not only am I wanted dead by the Caucasian police that protect the child porn ring, but also by African American police that protect Jihad gangs of African Americans.  

I learned from a Caucasian inmate who knew DJ that he had become a popular drug dealer in Hollywood, CA. and that he had been introduced to very famous and wealthy clientele out there. They told me in prison that DJ had been having sex with celebrities’ daughters and taking nude photos and videos of them. I heard he was selling racist child pornography and that he was now a millionaire. They told me DJ had been setting up a network of people to try to make as many complaints on me as possible to try to keep me in prison and that very wealthy people had paid him money for his child pornography. I know the reason they want me in prison is so that I do not continue to press for an investigation on his crime ring and find some law enforcement group willing to bust them outside of Atlanta, GA. or United States, however these rings and houses exist in every single state in the USA.  I have heard that the pink mansion produces snuff films, films where children are raped, humiliated, and then murdered. A friend of DJ’s told me DJ was in a snuff film where he murdered a little girl at the end of the film after raping her and that he said he watched it every morning and he masturbated “over and over again” to the part where the little girl is brutally murdered. It is my suspicion that these wealthy and famous clientele of DJ’s are now purchasing snuff films from DJ and his organized crime ring now. I have left the names out of this book, but there are 6 girls I know of that DJ has had sex with on video that are under the age of 14 one as young as 8 years old, most of them celebrity children. 

No matter what I know or what is said there seems to be no busting this ring because of it’s protection by the police and even the FBI. This type of crime ring must exist in every state of America, and I believe it to be kept a very closely guarded secret by law enforcement in the USA. It looks to me that once you are aware that these crime rings exist, you either participate or get killed or sent to prison for having the secret knowledge and not being trusted with it or are at least considered a liability to the crime rings permanently. All I wanted was an investigation, I know DJ wants me dead and now he has so many other people involved in his ring that have the same interest as him that I am now not safe in my home country. Very dangerous people want me dead or framed and put in prison including the Atlanta Police who protect the ring, a leak in the FBI, and all those who have ever done business with DJ and the pink mansion before, whether it be drug sales, soliciting sex with a minor, or the purchasing of a snuff film or some other child pornography. There are many wealthy, politically connected, famous people and business owners who need to keep their reputations safe that now have made a target of me. I am also being targeted by Jihadi street gangs that are extremely dangerous in America for writing the FBI on them too. I barely made it out of Georgia alive and I barely made it out of prison alive and now I am presenting this book to you, because I probably will not be able to live without being murdered for very much longer. I hope this book has made an impression on you and that it changes your mind forever, now you can see the truth because now you have just read it and there may be able to be a way to change this ugly system in the country of America if somebody out there is ever actually able to get these people investigated for the first time since the beginning of American history in 1776. As for G-HAAD, Jihadi gang activity of conspirators to “take out the western way of life”, the situation is so racially sensitive that nobody wants to speak of it. This ring is spreading more everyday by way of DJ and the G-HAAD movement is secretly taking up popularity. Now you see why nobody wants to investigate these complaints. I want to ask you a question; however, should these complaints be investigated? I most certainly believe they should. I believe that the police in America and some of the FBI need to be criminally investigated by a federal agency for this type of corruption in public office and negligence, a political opinion of mine that just might be the reason I might not have a chance at my American dreams, but rather become a victim of the great hidden crime scene of America where law enforcement has created a pedophilic paradise for those who are “connected” and also a devils playground for Jihadi activism in a nation that is crippled by their own political correctness. It is politically correct not to defend this country against terror anymore. Are so many people in politics and law enforcement corrupted by underage sex that there is absolutely no agency in America to fight this type of crime? I know what the answer is, the answer is yes.  As for an investigation, there may just have been one conducted clandestinely, but not made public information and with no arrests ever made. This mysterious and unknown investigation should have changed and shaped the entire world into a better, safer place for everybody here, especially teenagers and children by way of changing our public knowledge of how our system really works. It is as if those that are wealthy, famous, politically connected, in law enforcement and/or powerful are indeed above the law and our own national security can be a matter if we all knew the truth about those people.  I call this investigation, whether it was ever conducted or not, “Operation Motherload”. 

Michael Christopher Lloyd